


Between Friendship and Duty

by TheDogPotato



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Gun Violence, Knife Violence, Torture, but also hurt Kent, dark!Kent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-10 17:03:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6965662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDogPotato/pseuds/TheDogPotato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kent's best friend murders a man, Kent is send down a path that slowly wakes up his inner demons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I wanted to start this story off with a note. I began writing this story 3 and a half years ago as a response to a prompt on the Whitechapel kinkmeme. I only had an idea for part of the story and didn’t even give it a thought where I would take it from there. That turned out to be a bad idea (surprise) which is why it has taken me such a long time to write it. A lot of the time I just didn’t know how to continue the story, but I wanted to finish it, and I’m glad I did, even if this is not my proudest work.

It had been a quiet day at work, but when Kent arrived home he was still exhausted. If it hadn’t been for his breaks he would have gone insane locked up in the incident room going through endless paperwork. His brain was a mush as a result of nothing exciting happening and he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to go straight to bed or just chill for a while.

The door to the apartment made a perfect click as he unlocked it. The entrance was fully lit, an indicator that his flatmate Mark was home.

As Kent entered the living room on the way to the kitchen, he was blinded by a bright light pointing directly at the entrance of the door. He covered his face with his hand as he cautiously walked into the room.

“Oh sorry Em, I was just experimenting a bit with some light and shade for my next shoot,” Mark announced excitedly.

Mark was a photographer, and therefore it wasn’t unusual for Kent to arrive home to a fully transformed living room while Mark was testing out a new idea. One time he’d come home only to be greeted by a cat even though they didn’t have one and was left to wonder how it had gotten into an apartment on the second floor until Mark arrived home. It turned out that Mark had gotten a gig of photographing cats for a calendar and as a result had bought a cat, so he could test out some ideas at home, and since then they’d had the tortoise shelled cat running around the flat.

“That’s alright,” Kent said shaking his head. He’d known Mark most of his life and knew what he’d gotten himself into even before moving in with him, so as long as he didn’t break anything during his experiments and kept out of his room, he wouldn’t complain.  
  
He cautiously stepped around anything that looked even remotely photography-related as he made his way to the kitchen to see if he could find anything to eat.  
  
“But hey! You’ve got to see my edit of that picture I… Em!” Mark stopped midsentence and yelled his name which nearly made Kent jump in surprise.

“What?” He turned around in the doorway looking at his friend who looked at him expectantly. “What is it?”  
  
“There was an article in the paper on your latest case, and it had the prettiest picture of your boss in it! I took the liberty of hanging it on your wall for you,” Mark said with a wolfish grin.  
  
“Oh piss off!” Kent said with a furrowed brow, though he couldn’t quite conceal a grin. He’d never officially told Mark about his feeling for his boss, but it hadn’t taken him long to figure it out by himself, and he loved mentioning it on a regular basis, occasionally urging him to make a move, but Kent always shrugged his comments off.

He continued into the kitchen and opened the fridge to see what they had. Of course there was nothing to eat, but then again he couldn’t remember the last time they’d had a proper visit to the convenience store.  
  
“I can hear you’re at the fridge but – surprise – we still have nothing in there, but don’t worry! I ordered pizza for both of us. I got the garlic one for you. I figured you had to be tired of having that minty fresh breath all the time!” Mark yelled into the kitchen.

“Just because some of us use our toothbrush daily,” Kent said as he leant on the doorframe.

“Ha! Plus that mouthwash you bring with you to work every day”

“But really, we need to get better at making our own supper,” Kent said changing the subject.  
  
Mark sent him a grin and returned his gaze to the computer in front of him. “I’ll go to the store tomorrow, I promise!”

“I don’t even know how you’ve got the money for all this takeaway! When was your last proper job?” Kent asked him as he tiptoed his way through his friend’s “home studio” on the way to his room.

“I haven’t. That’s why I’m counting on you buying!” Kent shot him a sideways glance. “Relax! I still have some from that wedding gig, you know.” Mark shot him a broad smile and Kent returned it. He might not be near as organised as Kent was, but he’d still always been trustworthy in money matters. Another reason, besides his cheerful attitude, that made him a great flatmate.  
  
As Kent entered his room, he immediately noticed the newspaper clipping hanging right above his bed. With a shake of his head he took down the clipping showing off a slightly disgruntled Chandler, who was never really happy when the press was around, but instead of throwing it in the bin he neatly folded it and put it in his deskdrawer.

 

The rest of the evening had gone by as per usual. He and Mark had sat down to eat in front of the television, and Kent had gone to bed early while Mark had grinned and called him a granddad. Mark didn’t have anything that could remotely resemble a sleep schedule and it wasn’t unlikely for him to still be awake when Kent awoke to get ready for his job.  
  
Kent had gotten ready for bed and set his alarm, but when he was awoken it wasn’t due to the alarm. He was nestled underneath the covers with his arms buried beneath his pillow in a peaceful sleep, when he heard three rapid knocks on his door.

“Em!” It was a mixture between a whisper and a shout, and Kent who was still half-asleep wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not.  
  
Three knocks again. “Em! You awake?” The voice was a little louder now. Kent looked at the time. Half past four. Why would Mark wake him at this hour, and how on earth could he imagine that he would be awake at a time like this.  
  
The knocks were louder now, as was Mark’s voice. “Emerson! Open the door!” Kent got up on his feet rubbing his eyes and suppressing a yawn.

“What do you want, Mark?” he asked sleepily through the door.  
  
“Please just open the door! I’ll explain then,” Mark sounded almost frightened and Kent was instantly more alert. He unlocked the door, an extra security since he’d suffered at the hands of the Krays, and opened the door to only see the silhouette of his friend. The entire room behind him was covered in darkness. He quickly jumped into Kent’s room and shoved the door closed behind him, leaving Kent confused and uneasy, as he watched his friend lock the door again.  
  
“Mark, what on earth are you doing? D’you know what time it is?” he frowned at his friend though he couldn’t see him properly. He reached for the lights, but Mark grabbed his hand before he could turn on the switch. Kent withdrew his hand defensively.

“Mark,” his tone was more serious now, more demanding. “What’s going on?”

“Do you promise to help me?” he sounded almost as if he was in panic.

“Well I can’t if you don’t tell me what it is!” Kent was almost shouting now. He reached for the lights again, and when Mark reached for his arm to stop him this time he grabbed it and kept his friend at bay long enough to turn on the lights. He turned around to have a proper look at him, and was immediately taken aback. Mark’s shirt was practically dripping with blood, and his eyes were full of pain and tears.

“What are you doing getting into my room for?” Kent looked at the door fearing that the attacker might be in their apartment and that was why he had locked the door. “We need to get you to a hospital!”

“No you don’t understand… I’m not – I’m not hurt… I’m not – I’m, I’m the one who…” Kent stared at him. He didn’t look wounded, at least not enough for that amount of blood to be covering his shirt. What was he saying?  
  
“Mark?!” Kent stood frozen as his friend fell to his knees in tears. “Mark?! I need more details! What happened?” No Mark had to explain, it couldn’t be as bad as he feared. It couldn’t.

“I did it! I killed him…” Mark burst out, and the horror washed over Kent. He was speechless. He couldn’t even form a question to acquire more information. Who? Why? When? Those questions seemed so pointless. How could all of this be explained? The scene went on for a few minutes before Mark stared pleadingly up at his friend who stood frozen in his room with morning hair, pyjama bottoms and tired eyes.

“I’ve been... sort of selling… drugs…” he looked down at the floor where a puddle of blood was forming, as it dripped off his shirt. “At night… It wasn’t much, but it was easy money… I didn’t get myself in any danger… It was very easy - easy money… but this client,” he cleared his throat. “He didn’t like what I sold and wanted a refund… And when I refused he threatened me, and I just… I know people like that are serious with their threats,” he gestured to Kent’s pyjama bottoms, and Kent folded his arms protectively around his own chest.  
  
Mark quickly got to his feet and Kent, startled, stepped backwards into his desk. “See! You’re still scared! I know you are! I saw your pain through all that time, and I helped you! Remember how I helped you through? And I was just so scared that something like that would happen to me, and I attacked. It was self-defence, but I had a knife and all of a sudden… Please I helped you!” Mark repeated again once more burying his face in his hands.  
  
All of Kent’s instincts were telling him to turn his friend in. He was a detective constable and this was what he did for a living. When he heard someone confess to a murder, he wanted to write a report, wanted to secure that this person wouldn’t walk the streets again for a long time, but he hesitated, his hands on the desk for support.

He knew how Mark must’ve felt. Mark had been through his pain with him, what if he’d seen Kent’s attackers reflected in the man before him? Kent had seen the anger flare across Mark’s face when he first heard of the attack. Mark had welcomed him back like a hero instead of a victim. He had given him space, and when he started locking his door for extra protection, instead of ridiculing him for it, Mark had promised him that he would stay up all night every night like a watch dog if that helped him feel secure. He’d lifted his spirits when he was suspected as a mole.

He was his best friend. He was not a drug dealer, not a murderer. And yet here he was before him drenched in another man's blood.

He saw his own situation reflected in Mark’s. If he could have escaped the Krays by killing them there and then, he might have, but then again he was a serving detective constable and not dealing drugs. This was not the same situation. Even if Mark did fear this person's threats in the way Kent had come to fear the Krays, this wasn't the same. He was just a random man wasn't he? Or was he? Kent had no idea. He was torn between sympathy and betrayal.

No, he couldn’t fully accept his reasons for doing what he’d done, but looking at his broken friend there was only one option.

Kent walked over to his friend and put his hand on his shoulder. He’d made his decision.

“Clean up. We’ll find a way to get out of this mess!”


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a long day, but Kent was finally starting to calm down again. He’d sat his friend down on the sofa, made him a cup of tea, and tried to get further information out of him. He was completely broken, and it had been a struggle for Kent to remain calm for his friend, but he’d managed and in the end Mark had told him where it had happened. That was Kent’s cue. He got dressed for a work day, reminded his friend to clean up in the apartment and feed the cat, and went out the door. 

Although he’d dressed for work, he’d no intention of going there. The sun wouldn’t be up for another few hours, and that, along with the chill in the air, made sure there were as few people around as possible. The work dress was to insure him an alibi. If he got caught, and he really hoped he didn’t, he would call his work and inform them he’d gotten a clue to where a corpse was and wanted to check it out before any of the others were bothered by it. It might have been nothing. It wasn’t the best of alibis, but what other explanation could he give, spending an extensive amount of time with a corpse well underway of being got rid of. No one would know that it was him. The murderer could have been distracted or have fled the scene before finishing his job, and Kent was just examining it a bit. He would call the others straight away. 

If this was to happen, Chandler would be disappointed in him, he was sure. He’d tell him that he needed to go to him straight away. It hurt him even thinking about it, but considering the situation and what he was really about to do, he knew it was the better option. Chandler would forgive him for it eventually, and ideally he would never even know about it. He didn’t have to worry about it. The place was deserted, and Kent had done everything in his power to get rid of the body, and all evidence of what had taken place there.

Afterwards he’d called in sick. He was completely worn down from the events of this early morning, and he needed time to recollect himself, but not time to relax. It had only been a couple of hours, and he’d already realised how having something to do kept his mind busy which helped him feel sane. As soon as he allowed himself to relax, he was hit by guilt, shame and fear like a brick wall. 

When he’d arrived home, Mark was in his room. He had tried to knock on the door and call on him, but there had been no answer. He quickly took a look into the room and found him in a deep sleep. He looked very relaxed and for a moment Kent felt jealous of him. How could he be this relaxed? Did he just call on him for help and then push it out of his mind, as it was now Kent’s problem? No, he probably hadn’t slept at all last night and now the sleep had finally claimed him. Still, he did look very peaceful. 

Kent abandoned every thought of getting any sleep of his own. He would be surprised if he fell asleep in the evening even. His mind was racing with thoughts, and he instantly turned on the radio, computer and TV and had them all running at the same time to have something to busy his mind with. The TV and radio formed a static background noise that kept him from dwelling on the same thoughts too long, while being on the computer gave him the illusion of being productive.

Time went by painfully slowly this way, but the rest of the day was not to go by this way. 

It was around noon that the doorbell rang. Kent quickly turned off the radio and the TV and got up to answer the door. Standing in the doorway was Mansell and he was smiling brightly.

“Hey mate! It’s a slow day today, so I thought I would use the official lunch break – well most of today has seemed like a lunch break already – to come see you and bring you some soup”

Kent was absolutely dumbfounded. None of his colleagues had ever been in his home before, and all of a sudden on the worst day possible, there Mansell was holding a container with soup. He began to panic. What if there was any tell-tale signs of what had happened previously. 

“Hehe, surprised to see me? I knew you would be, but Erica told me where you lived. You know, I thought I better start acting like a nice brother in law, so I made you a soup that can get you up and running in no time. Just watch out if you’re not used to spicy food,” Mansell grinned broadly, and gave him a pat on the shoulder. 

Kent still had no idea what to say. He looked to the side. It didn’t surprise him that Erica had given him the address, and he’d warmed up enough to Mansell by now to appreciate the kind thought that lay behind him arriving unannounced with soup. When he looked back up at Mansell he saw the look of curiosity that so often played on Mansell’s face. 

“Well well well, that’s an interesting attire to be wearing on your sick day off,” Mansell said with a smirk.

Kent quickly glanced down at himself. He was still wearing a full suit plus he was sure that the only thing that looked ill about him must be the black lines he had under his eyes, due to his lack of sleep.

“Oh, yeah, um yes. I wanted to do some paperwork from home, and since I was doing work I thought I better dress up like it, you see,” Kent tried explaining, but Mansell still had a sly smile on his face.

“So you don’t mind me coming in?” 

Kent stepped aside. “Noo, that’s alright.”

Mansell continued ahead of Kent into the living room. 

“Wow! What’s going on in here?” he said standing in the doorway. He was referring to Mark’s “home studio” which still hadn’t been put away since the day before. 

Kent stopped right beside him, scanning the room for anything that might imply anything... unusual. 

“Oh, it’s my roommate. He’s a photographer, so….” He didn’t get to finish his sentence as Mansell got distracted. 

“Aw, you have a cat! I didn’t see you as the cat type – come here!” He swooped the tortoise-shelled cat which had curiously walked up to him up in his arms. 

Kent felt way too distracted to respond, and before he found something to say the door to Mark’s room opened and Mark stood there in nothing but his boxers.

“Em!” He called out but quickly identified Mansell as a detective and froze for a moment before Kent spoke up.

“Mark! This is my colleague, Mansell. He just came over to see if I was okay and to bring me some soup,” Kent gave a reassuring smile while gesturing at the soup. Mark visibly relaxed at this knowledge, but before Kent could give any proper introduction, Mansell was looking at him flashing one of the widest grins Kent had seen in a while. 

“Right! I’ll just pop in here again,” Mark excused himself and closed the door. 

“Oh Kent, man! Seems like you won’t be needing the soup then,” he said with a wink. Kent was baffled. 

“I – what?” 

“Don’t play innocent with me, Bambi. I’ve had the odd sick day off now and again. Don’t worry, I won’t tell the boss.”

“You think? No… um…” Kent looked at the ground. 

“Haha, but from the looks of it, I probably interrupted at an inconvenient time. You can still have the soup though.” He left it on the sofa table which was pushed against a wall, and put the cat down at the same time. 

Kent wanted to tell him that he was wrong, but he knew that Mark wouldn’t mind this assumption. He’d saved him a great many times from girls that got too pushy with him by pretending he was his partner, so Kent knew he wasn’t scared of people thinking that, and if Mansell thought this, he had a great alibi, so he kept his mouth shut. 

Mansell gave him a pat on the shoulder on the way out. “Good job by the way! How bad should I tell them you’re feeling?” Mansell turned around in the doorway. Kent gave him a cautious smile.

“Just tell them I’m counting on being in for work tomorrow.”

“Will do!”

“Thank you for the soup,” Kent called after him as he closed the door.

“Was that really all he wanted?” Mark was standing behind him, now fully dressed. Kent turned to face him. 

“It really was. You know, he’s my almost brother in law, and he was just trying to be considerate.”

“Phew, so he’s Erica’s new boyfriend? Oh well, I just panicked for a minute there. I thought you might have ratted me out,” he gave Kent a light punch on the arm, but Kent noticed his expression. 

It was only for about a second or so, but it gave him chills. He had really thought that Kent had went to his job and told them about it even if he said he wouldn’t. Kent felt strangely hurt by this, but at the same time something in the back of his mind still told him that was what he should have done. But it was too late for that now.

Kent sent his friend his best smile and told him what Mansell had assumed which seemed to lighten the mood a bit. 

It didn’t take long before Kent received a text from his sister asking who the lucky guy was.


	3. Chapter 3

As Kent had predicted it had been a sleepless night. He was full of guilt and after three hours of turning and tossing in bed, he’d decided to do some work, so he would meet up prepared for work. He’d opted for coffee instead of tea in the morning and had left the apartment before Mark got up. 

He’d on purpose decided to show up a bit later than usual this day. Normally he would meet as the second person with only Chandler coming in before him. He usually announced his arrival with a cheery hi, which was either answered by a lovely and polite wish of a good morning or a vague hello depending on the stress levels of the station at the time. Then he’d sit down on his desk, getting to work straight away, while enjoying the silence of the station when it was just him and Chandler. 

Riley was there as well when he arrived which made him cheer on the inside. This meant he didn’t have to be alone with Chandler; something he was sure he couldn’t handle. He quietly greeted Riley, and found his place at the desk, starting out with paper work as long as they didn’t have any big case to work on.

Miles was in a bad mood and only acknowledged the rest of the room with a gruffy hello, when he arrived, which suited Kent great. The less people he had to be chitty-chatty with throughout the day the better. But of course he couldn’t ignore the proud and suggesting look he was sent by Mansell when he arrived at work. He just looked straight ahead, hoping that Mansell’s crazy ideas would stay between the two of them, so he didn’t have to come up with excuses. His mind was still racing with guilt, and if any of them were to be a little suspicious of anything at all, he felt he might spill the truth right away. 

So he stayed silent and out of the way throughout the day, only contacting Miles about the work that had to be done, politely thanking Riley for her comments on the niceness of his quick recovery, and giving slight nods to his superior whenever they got eye contact.

One time Chandler came over to him, asking for him to research some names, and Kent deliberately avoided looking into his eyes, while only allowing himself to answer yes or no, but still obeying the order. He did notice the look of wonder on Chandler’s face when he walked away, but, luckily for Kent, this was the longest encounter they had all day. 

In the break he opted for getting the entire team coffee, effectively avoiding the team at their chattiest moments. And then he put himself 100% into the work in front of him, so he, with a clean conscience, could leave earlier than usual. 

He still felt guilty over what he’d done, and wanted to spent as little time with his work mates and in that environment as possible. But despite the fact that he was constantly battling his guilt, at the end of the day he felt like he might actually get through this. Nothing had turned up on their desks that even resembled the murder. When he arrived home he felt confident that he would actually get some sleep that night. Despite the gruesome thing he had been part of, he would eventually be able to forget it and put this whole event in the past. 

When he entered the hallway, the smell of Chinese takeaway found his nostrils. They really did need go to the convenience store. He closed the door behind him, and was just about to turn around and yell this at his roommate, when he found himself surrounded by four men. He didn’t even have time to react before he was seized by two of them and forced into the living room, where they bound his hands and pushed him up against the back of the sofa.

One of the men, casually holding a gun, scrutinized him and huffed. 

“It’s the flatmate,” he said briefly to the others. 

“Wasn’t he the cop?” another man asked leaning closely into Kent’s face. Kent tried steadying his breath, and resisting the urge to spit the man in the face.

“That scrawny pup?” a big guy, one of the men who had grabbed him, said with a laugh, as he kicked his shoulder, so he fell down and had to struggle to get into an upright position again, much to the amusement of the others. 

“DC Emerson Kent,” the fourth man announced from the desk Kent had worked on the day before. Some of his papers were still lying around. 

“Emerson, eh? Any idea where that mate of yours is?” the man holding a gun said. He seemed like the one in charge. 

Kent swallowed, trying to even out his breathing. He had to remain calm. These must be the friends of the victim that he himself had gotten rid of. They would know that the last thing their mate did was go to his dealer – Mark. 

“No – I’m afraid not,” Kent said in the calmest voice he could muster, which earned him another kick to the shoulder. This time the man who’d kicked him was the only one laughing. The others were wearing stone hard faces. 

“Look ‘ere pup! You call up that friend of yours and have him come over here or else!” 

Kent battled himself into an upright position, and was about to comment on his lack of ability to phone his friend while his hands were bound behind his back, when the man kicking him held out a phone to his ear. 

“Just say his number, and we’ll make sure you have the right man. You don’t want to know what happens if it isn’t him!” the leader informed him. 

Kent didn’t want to take any chances. The only one who wasn’t home from the station yet would be Chandler, and he wouldn’t be able to show up in time, he would be in danger, and his friend would feel like Kent had betrayed him. He told them the number, and the man beside him held the phone to his ear. It took a while, and Kent watched the man’s expression turn grim. 

“There’s nobody bloody answering the phone!” he barked.

The man who’d found his name in the papers on the desk strode towards Kent. 

“Are you playing games with us, kid?”

He came dangerously close to Kent pushing him down so he lay on the floor, and shoved his hands down one of his trouser pockets. Kent tried fighting him off, but the man just held him down with the length of his underarm pressed against his chest and withdrew Kent’s own phone from his pockets. 

He then stood up, grinning down at Kent who lay still for a while trying not to panic. 

“The code?” he said briefly looking down at the phone. Kent told him, and he noticed a brief expression of satisfaction on the man’s face, at the fact that he’d given him the correct information. 

“Hmph, it was the right number he gave us, alright,” he said glancing down at Kent who was slowly starting to battle himself up from the floor again, and kept him down by putting his food on Kent’s chest. Kent sighed and closed his eyes. 

“Well then call him from cop-kid’s phone then. Either he’ll answer a call from his friend or you leave him a real threatening message concerning his life. Let’s see if he still has some honour in him,” the leader said towering over Kent. 

The number was called and the room was silent. Nobody answered. The automatic answering machine message came on. Beep. The man with the phone sent Kent a wicked grin before telling his friend what gruesome things they intended to do to Kent if he didn’t show up. Then he hung up. 

“How long are we gonna give him, before we tear the pup to pieces and leave it here as a message to him?” The big man said. 

“Half an hour. If he can’t make that, he's not coming, but we'll make up for the missed date next time we see him then,” the leader said turning towards the front door. “Keep an eye on him and if he makes the faintest of noises, do what you must.” 

Kent lay on the floor cursing himself. He was a detective constable. A good one. His friend had murdered a man, and he’d helped him hide the body. Why hadn’t he turned him in? Wouldn’t that have been the best for everybody? Now he was in this predicament and he was entirely to blame for it. There was no one to save him. And he even deserved it. He’d gotten rid of their friend’s body after his mate had killed him. There was no excuse for doing such a thing. He was almost sure Mark wouldn’t return for him. After how afraid he'd been the other night. Kent really couldn’t see any way out of this. 

Time dragged on and on, and the little spark of hope Kent had allowed himself to feel extinguished. He was a dead man. At least they’d allowed him to sit upright in the last half hour of his life. He’d tried to find a solution on how to get out of this on his own, but he found it hard thinking clearly, and eventually his focus became trying not to let any tears betray him. He couldn’t let them have this pleasure.

“Time is ticking away!” One of the men informed him in a jolly voice while looking through everything in the living room. Kent swallowed and looked up at him.

“I guess your copper friends will have a bit of a nasty murder on their hands soon, won’t they?” another said crouching down so he was almost at level with Kent who kept his mouth shut at their comments. The man gave Kent a light pat on the cheek. “Cheer up buddy, cause it gets worse!” 

Kent shut his eyes tight at the comment which received a throaty laugh from the man. 

The leader returned from the front door. “No sight of him. I guess it’s time to leave him a message. Boys!” The last word was a command, and two of the men swooped down on Kent likes birds on a prey and pulled him to his feet while holding onto him. Kent looked from one side to the other in horror.

“Please! Please don’t! I’m sure he’ll be here soon. I don’t know where he is. Maybe he hasn’t heard the message, please!” Even while uttering them, Kent could feel that the words were empty of any truth, and the men would know that as well. 

The leader drew a knife and let it dance over Kent’s throat slightly piercing his skin which caused him to whimper unwillingly, tears starting to form his eyes at once. 

“Hah, oh you’re going to be fun aren’t you?” 

He let the knife trace his neck once more making a sharp cut downwards cutting over the tie around his neck making him flinch violently. 

“Oh, watch out for that. Somebody might be hurt,” the leader joked, casually cutting the buttons on Kent’s shirt off. “Let’s see the canvas we’re working on today,” he said with a smirk as a cue to the men holding Kent to remove his suit jacket and shirt, leaving him bare-chested.

“Not a lot of fat on that body. Any cut I give you will slice right through you won’t it?” 

“He won’t last long, heh.”

“No, no please! I beg you!” Kent was getting more and more desperate, begging for his life. “I will do everything you ask! Please! No, NO!” A cut was made directly to his chest. He screamed in pain, memories of the striping flooding his mind. Tears were now flowing down his cheeks in an uncontrollable stream, matching the blood pouring out of his wound. 

Another cut. This time from the shoulder and down. Kent twisted and yelled in agony, gasping for air while trying to formulate coherent words. “Pl-please! I ca…” his words were broken by a sob, but it didn’t help him, and the next cut was made so it stretched across both of the former cuts. Kent would’ve doubled over in agony if it hadn’t been for the men keeping him in an upright position. 

“What a nice colour you’re turning. It suits you far better than that pale skin you’ve been wearing. Let’s see if we can decorate the back as well.” The men turned him over, revealing his back to the leader, and Kent panicked when he felt the knife slice through the lower part of his back. 

“NOOO! Not aga….” Gasping for air he managed to cut himself off, but it was too late. 

“What was that, pup?” the man beside him inquired, and he tried to shy off to the other side to no avail. He shut his eyes so closely that the tears began to sting in his eyes. The tip of the blade sat at the base of his neck. “Come on! We’re curious!” Kent cursed himself inwards. The pain was making him woozy and his knees were weak. He was dizzy from blood loss, but the blood still flushed his cheeks at the memory.

“Well boss, will you look at that!” The man beside him said cheerfully. “He’s embarrassed, the li’l one!” They roughly turned him around again, stretching his wounds as they did so, which caused him to whimper. 

“We’re sparing you right now, so if you don’t tell us what you were about to say, we’ll really have to make up for it afterwards!” he was threatingly informed.

Kent wanted to keep his dignity and didn’t want to tell them, but there was still a small hope that lingered saying that he could maybe get out of this alive, so he obliged. 

“Not again,” he said in a weak voice.

“And what did you mean by that? And we really don’t have time for this nonsense, so speak quickly.” 

Shivers of pain ran through his body as he tried to draw a big breath to stall the moment a bit. He quickly mumbled. “I was striped once.” 

The leader broke into a big grin. “Oh, that’s brilliant. You were striped once and want to be spared having to relive that humiliation ever again, so you panicked? Well let that be a lesson to you, COP, since you’re obviously in knowledge of your friends act, with not a single question as to who we are or why we’re after your friend, you as a cop, must have taken his side then, and that means you’ve antagonised us, so instead of killing you here and now, I have a better plan. You give your little friend the message that we’re going to hunt him down, and in exchange we’ll give you a little gift to show you how nice we can be in return for you doing us that favour.”

Kent’s eyes opened wide, red and shining from the tears, he fixed them on the knife. “No, no! Please! I’ll give him the message! I will!” 

The men beside him easily overcame his attempts at a struggle when they turned him around once more. His throat went dry as he tried to plea again. His head dropped in defeat. Maybe they would be over with him after that he thought trying to ignore the pain he was already feeling. 

“Let’s see the damage then!”

Kent found he had some more fight in him at those words. His head jolted up. “You can’t!” He tried to look over his shoulder, but the motion made his wounds stretch, and he turned his head forward again. His breath became faster. They couldn’t.

He felt a pair of hands unbuckling his belt before, in a swift motion pulling his pants downwards. In a futile attempt of avoiding this, he spread his legs, but a knife jabbed into the wound on his back made sure he obeyed quickly. Before the second attempt was made, he hung his head low again, closing his eyes, wishing himself far away from the place. 

His pants were pulled downwards settling around his ankles, and a taunting laugh came from all his onlookers. Kent started sobbing uncontrollably. He really tried to stop himself, but he already felt like he was stripped from the last of his dignity, and soon he gave up on trying. 

“So what do you think? Should we make an addition to them, or do you think he’ll enjoy the familiar look better?” the leader commented. 

“Heh, aren’t four better than two?” 

“Hmm… Maybe…” he said sounding thoughtful. “Let’s see. We could do this.” He let the knife trace the old wounds, almost sending Kent into a flash of panic, but he was too afraid to move, and could only stand there, eyes shut, cheeks flushing with anger, pain, and humiliation. “Or this.” He traced a line on both buttoccks right below the old scars, drawing just the smallest hint of blood, causing Kent to tense his entire body. The leader let the knife dance along the lower back reaching the buttocks over and over. “But I’ll let you guys decide.” 

“Isn’t new always better, lad?” said one of the men beside Kent putting his face close to Kent who kept still, weeping. “Hah, I’ll take that as a yes.”

“So be it!” Kent could hear what was coming and he tried to prepare himself for what was to come even though there was no use in trying. A swift cut on one side, followed by another and Kent screamed as he’d done before, his knees completely buckling under his weight, and this time the two men beside him, didn’t bother to keep him standing. They let him drop, so he fell flat out on the floor on his stomach, his hands tied behind his back so he couldn’t cushion the fall, and the wounds on his chest sent agonising pain through him threatening him to pass out. He couldn’t keep his head up, and soon it lay in the sticky warm puddle of his own blood which had formed on the floor. 

The laughter echoed in the room, as he was once again told to deliver Mark the message. If he survived. This was said accompanied by another laugh as his mobile was dropped next to him, and then they left, not even bothering to close the door. 

Kent lay there, not only struggling to free his hands, but also to stay conscious, he’d lost a lot of blood and every jolt of pain sent black dots flying in front of his vision. He felt the knot loosen, and quickly stretched one of his arms out to the side almost knocking him out from the pain it caused. He then gently but quickly reached out for his phone, dialled emergency service, and held the phone to his ear. With the last of his power he managed to tell them what they needed to know, and with a promise of the paramedics arriving soon, he let his head drop down again. 

He was hurting all over, and falling somewhat in and out of consciousness, but he was still painfully aware of what he would be looking like for anyone who would come across him. Lying on the floor, no shirt on, his pants around his ankles, and his arse a bloody mess. Maybe it would be someone who’d seen it before. It wouldn’t be news to them what he looked like, all vulnerable and there for the world to see. He only wished he could cover himself up, and hide from everybody’s eyes. Too many people had already seen him like this. Why couldn’t he just have kept his mouth shut?

Soon, too soon for Kent’s hurt pride, the paramedics were there to gaze upon him. Never mind to help him. He could feel their eyes. Hear their taunting thoughts as if they were being yelled at him. On and on in an echo he heard it in his mind.


	4. Chapter 4

The next thing Kent sensed was the distinctive hospital smell. He’d always hated hospitals. He was lying on his stomach despite the fact that he also had wounds there. The hospital gown and blanket was now there to shield him from the world, but nothing could shield him from the memories flooding back. Kent felt the tears sting in his eyes once more. Shaking violently; he grabbed the sides of the bed and buried his face in the pillow, only lifting his head a bit when he had to gasp for air. 

“Em?” he heard a familiar voice and turned his head to the side, and the tears now springing from his eyes were tears of anger. 

“You?! Why didn’t you come to the apartment? You didn’t even try to do anything! After what I did for you!” Kent yelled at Mark who sad there with a look of pity on his face. It disgusted Kent who had too many thoughts to battle with to be overbearing with his friend who would probably have been killed on sight, had he entered the apartment. 

“I- I’m sorry, Em. They were after me not you. I didn’t think they’d do you anything. I’d bought us food, but when I heard their voices I hurried out of the apartment and further up the stairs before they could see me. When they searched the home I fled, and it wasn’t possible for me to return. And I couldn’t get the police for obvious reasons. I’m sorry.” 

Kent’s anger flashed up once more at his friends excuse. He really didn’t feel like accepting apologies. “Is MY life of that little importance to you? You couldn’t risk prison for your best friend’s life? Really?!” 

“No! But how could I know they would…”

“They sent you a message from my phone! But you know what? They send you another message as well. I was appointed the task of giving it to you, and right now I do it gladly! I’m the example, so you know what awaits you, only you’ll not live to tell the tale!” Kent spat at his friend. 

“Are you cooperating with them now?” Mark asked in surprise. He was getting angry with Kent as well which only angered Kent even more. He didn’t have any right to be angry with him. “But I’ll tell you what then. If they ever get to me, I’ll tell them of your part in this and they’ll come back for you, so you better help keep them from me.” 

“Hah! Maybe it’s just time for me to go to the police with all of this! They’ll not stop bothering me about it anyway!” Kent sneered, and found that he actually meant it.

Mark’s expression turned from anger to shock. “You wouldn’t!” 

“Well I don’t have much to lose now, have I? If they’ll be after my life soon enough anyway.” 

Mark grinned wickedly. “No!” He said calmly. “You really wouldn’t. Don’t forget I know where your sister lives, and at any suggestion of you ratting me out, we’ll see what will happen to her. Maybe I’ll just pop over to her house now. See you, my friend!” He put a sarcastic emphasis on the word friend and left the hospital room without as much as a second glance back at Kent who now on top of his guilt, his memories, pain, and humiliation, could add the feeling of betrayal. There was nothing Kent could do. He’d threatened the person Kent loved most in the world. The person he would do anything to protect, even if it meant obeying his former friend’s wishes. He didn’t have a clue of what to tell his colleagues when they got there. 

A sudden pain from the newest wounds brought tears to his eyes again, everything that had happened over the last few days clotting up in his mind. He felt angry at how small and vulnerable he was in this entire situation, and that really didn’t help him, when Riley, as the first of his work mates, came there to see him.

“Kent?” a sadness to her caring voice sounded in the room. “I hope it’s alright for me to visit, but we heard what had happened even though it wasn’t on duty, and I’m so sorry.” 

Somehow the last words fuelled Kent’s pre-existing anger and he growled. “Yeah well, I am too!” before turning his head away hastily letting his tears soak into the pillow and off of his face. 

Riley kept her maternal caring voice on. “I understand that Kent. It’s unfair that it should happen to you. Look if you don’t want to talk about it, we can talk about anything you like, just say the word.” 

“Maybe I’ll say the word for the nurse to escort you out. I’m not in the mood for talking,” he said bitterly his head still turned away. Her caring voice just reminded him of how small and vulnerable he was. How anyone would pity him.

Riley sat still for a moment. “Alright – we don’t need to talk. Just know that I’m here for you.”

“Well that’s a comfort. You’re here for me. If I don’t want to talk and you’re just going to sit there, then you might as well not be here.”

Riley didn’t take this too kindly. “Look love, I’m coming here in my spare time as your friend, and though I respect that you’re feeling bad about the situation, I don’t want to be approached this rudely when trying to show my support.” 

“Can’t you just show your support elsewhere? Don’t your kids have a football game or something?” Kent snapped again, still looking the other way. He knew he was being unfair to Riley who really wanted him the best, but he couldn’t muster any sympathies at the moment, and he found it was a rather good way of keeping her from asking any questions relating to what had happened. 

“Very well then. I hope you’ll be in good health soon. Goodbye!” Riley said keeping up her good manners, cause she knew he was having a tough time, while still mad at the way he treated her, and quite shocked about it too. It wasn't like him.

He couldn’t bring himself to care about her though, and soon he was alone with his thoughts again which was not helping him in any way. 

He wasn’t to be alone like that forever though. The nurses kept checking up on him. At one point they had to change his bandages and Kent yelled and cursed at the nurse. He didn’t want anyone to be near him, didn’t want anyone to be in the same room as him, didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t know what he wanted. The nurse was sweet and patient and really tried to make him understand why she had to do what she was doing, but he snapped at her, twisting his upper body, even though he was in pain, to glare at her, and it ended with her leaving and coming back another time. By then, Kent had just had a moment and his pillow was soaked in tears, so not wanting to reveal that to the nurse, he buried his head in the pillow, and let her do, what he knew had to be done. 

And eventually the inevitable happened.

“Kent?” the sweetest of voices could be heard. Kent’s heart dropped in his chest. He’d hoped this confrontation wouldn’t happen. Chandler was his superior, but he’d never felt so inferior to him, as he did lying there with all his issues and guilt. 

Kent looked up at his boss not letting his face reveal neither pain, sorrow, anger, nor joy. 

“I came here as soon as work allowed me to. Are you alright?” Chandler asked looking thoroughly at Kent - only for a brief moment, but Kent still noticed it. 

“No I am not,” he informed his superior not wanting to sugar coat anything. He hoped he could contain himself and not be as harsh with Chandler as he had been with Riley, but he already felt angry and bitter again. 

“Oh,” Chandler had hoped for the sugar coated answer. “Well, do you hurt? Do you want me to call the…” 

“I can do that myself. Why are you here?” Kent asked getting straight to the point. 

“I’m here as your friend, but I am also your boss…”

“Of course,” Kent muttered under his breath. Here came the questions.

“Who were the people who attacked you? What happened?” Chandler asked. 

“I can’t tell you, sir,” Kent answered looking down. 

“What?” Chandler seemed confused. 

“I don’t know them.”

“But they were in your home? Oh very well, you must remember what happened. Did they say anything?” 

“I got attacked… and they hurt me and left me there. I was able to call an ambulance. Then I blacked out,” Kent said telling the truth but leaving out the things he wanted to talk about the least. 

“And you’ve no idea why?” 

“No.”

“None at all?” 

“No, sir.” 

“And they didn’t give you the faintest clue? Did you see them?” 

Kent couldn’t pretend he didn’t, as most of his wounds were on his chest, so he faked pain instead. 

“Argh… Sorry sir, but…” he panted for extra effect. “Could you please call a nurse? My chest hurts.” 

Chandler didn’t hesitate one second. 

“Of course, I’ll just-” He hurried out the door, and the nurse was in there swiftly to check up on him. 

“I’m sorry, sir, but he seems in too much a pain for visitors right now. Maybe if you could come back tomorrow.” 

Chandler gave him a long worried look before heading down the hall, leaving Kent alone once more. He’d overcome a hard challenge. Not giving anything away to Chandler was a tough task, but not as tough as actually figuring out what he could do in his situation. They would want him to press charges against the attackers, but he couldn’t do that. If they were caught, it would lead to Mark which could end badly for his sister. 

Kent felt powerless and weak. He had been so prepared to turn himself and Mark in while pressing charges towards his attackers in that brief moment. After what had happened, he was convinced this was the right course of action, but now his sister’s life was threatened, and the only thing that could make his life worse than it was right now was if something happened to Erica. Kent couldn’t bear the thought. His friend knew him well, knew his weakest points, and this threat was extra effective when he was lying helpless in a hospital bed with nothing he could possibly do to help her. Any sign of the police getting involved and who knew what Mark would be capable of doing. He could only hope to get better and spend his days keeping his friend safe from the people who’d done this to him. How could he imagine this ending in anything but a bad way?

Exhausted from the pain and the hopelessness of the situation he was in; he fell into a restless sleep filled with nightmares. He awoke in a cold sweat panting from sheer horror of what his unconscious mind had tortured him with. He’d slept for under an hour and he still felt exhausted, but he was too scared to try to sleep again. He buried his head in the pillow trying to think of something to keep his mind off of reality but without any luck. 

“Em?” a concerned voice suddenly rang through the hospital’s busy noises. Kent looked up from the pillow and met his sister’s worried gaze. She quickly walked over to him. “Em! Are you okay? Will you be alright?” She asked deeply concerned with him. 

Kent put on a smile for his sister. If there was one person he would accept concern from, it was her. He couldn’t even begin to fathom how he would be feeling had it been her lying in his place, and what must she be seeing right now? A shadow of her brother, wounded and scarred, mad and sleep deprived.

“It’s going to be fine! There’ll be no permanent damage, just a lot of nasty scarring,” he said still keeping up his smile. She let out a sigh of relief. 

“Oh Em, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it earlier, but after I’d heard about it, your friend, Mark, stopped by and asked me to take care of your cat while you obviously couldn’t stay in your apartment, and I had to deal with that practically, and I’m so sorry. I brought you a book, some magazines and lots of chocolate to pass the time here though!” she explained, and Kent momentarily lost the smile. What a cunning plan. Now Mark had the perfect excuse to visit his sister. He’d already sorted that out. Where was he now? Waiting outside the hospital looking for any signs that he’d warned his sister? He felt the panic rise within him. 

“That’s very kind of you, Erica,” Kent said putting on the smile again, but his change of expression hadn’t gone unnoticed. 

“What’s wrong, Em?” she asked, her voice thick with concern. 

“Nothing. I just really appreciate that you’re here,” Kent said forming a plan in his head. If any of his colleagues arrived while Erica was there, he could tell them both the truth. His colleague could keep his sister safe from Mark, and they would be on the case and everything would work out for the best, even if Kent was an accomplice to Mark, this was really one of the things that bothered him the least. The truth would probably shock and even hurt certain people, and Kent’s life would be turned upside down, but his sister’s and his own safety were more important. 

Erica gave him a cautious smile back.

“So where’s Mansell? Is he with you?” Kent asked hopefully. 

“Mansell?” Erica laughed. “What? You’ve warmed up to him lately have you?” she teased referring to the day off Kent had taken. Kent let out a huff of air. “But no, he’s not. I’m so busy this week; I probably won’t even have time to see him.”

Kent cursed inwardly. “Oh right, I was just wondering. Some of my other colleagues have been here, so I thought he might be with you.” 

“Honestly, even if I did have the time, I wouldn’t have suggested for him to come along. I didn’t know how you were feeling, and thought it would be best if it was just me.” 

“Yeah, thanks!” Kent said appreciating the thought, even though it didn’t go well with his current plans. “What is it that’s keeping you so busy?” he asked in an attempt at chitchat. Maybe he would be lucky and someone would pass by before she had to leave. 

“Oh, it’s work. I don’t want to bore you with that. I have to get back to it soon anyway – I don’t want to bore me with that,” she laughed, but the grin quickly faded from her face when she noticed her brother’s expression. She was already planning to leave, and Kent found his new sprung hope fading away. 

“You’re already leaving?” his voice almost broke. His emotions were running away with him. He didn’t have any other way of protecting her. 

Erica worriedly grabbed his hand. “Why, I have to. Em? What’s wrong?” 

Kent tried to draw a big breath to calm himself down, but he stopped mid-breath choking back a sob. He knew he must be a pathetic sight, but maybe it would keep Erica there. He was prepared to throw everything, dignity, self-respect, everything away to keep his sister there. Keep her safe. 

“Just please don’t go! I’m frightened, Erica,” of what might happen to you. But he kept the last part for himself, as the tears were forming in his eyes. He saw the effect it had on Erica, and could see that she had to recollect herself before replying. 

“Em! I’m so sorry. I will be back. I promise to be back. You’re my brother and I care so deeply for you! You have the best colleagues – they will be caught as soon as possible!” she said giving him a reassuring squeeze of the hand. She obviously thought he’d already pressed charges, because why wouldn’t he have?

She was about to turn around, and Kent took that as a sign that he was leaving. In this moment he had the feeling that if he let her leave now, he’d never see her again. 

He grabbed her wrist before she could go anywhere. “Erica!” he pleaded. She turned around in shock.

“Emerson!” she said loudly; clearly confused by this action. 

“Please, Erica, I beg you!” Kent remembered how little effect those words had had the last time he’d begged for something, but he wasn’t going to give up. 

“Alright, I’ll go there and check with my boss to see if I can get out of the late meeting, and then I’ll be back, okay?” she said attempting to free her arm, but Kent held on tighter. Panicking further, he sobbed as he once again begged for her to stay. Through the crying his grip on her wrist became less firm, and she stepped back and out of his reach, still worryingly looking at him, not wanting to leave him when he was in this state, but still knowing that she had to eventually. 

When Kent noticed she’d stepped away, he mistook it for her leaving there and then and figured he had to take a chance. He flung his upper body over the side of the bed reaching as far as he could to reach his sister, but the sudden and violent movement of the upper body ripped his wounds open anew. The pain made him lose control of his upper body and had his sister not been there to support him, he would have fallen off the bed. 

She frantically called for help, and when it was discovered what damage he’d done to himself, Erica was sent away so he could be tended to. Between the pain in his chest and seeing his sister go the latter was the worst.


	5. Chapter 5

Kent had gotten some painkillers which had taken his remaining energy from him, so that he’d fallen into a deep sleep. He awoke with a feeling that something was wrong and remembered his sister leaving, but he quickly told himself that the fear he’d been feeling had been due to his lack of sleep. He hadn’t been thinking clearly and thinking his plan through now, he realised that he could inform his sister of what was going on and then call one of his fellow detectives who could come and take his sister to safety until they had found Mark. Maybe he, his former friend and his assailants would soon be living in the same place, oh joy, but he had to steel himself for it – he was the one to blame for participating in this. 

He was still pondering how he was going to tell his sister when she came in through the door to his room.

“Emerson!” she said, her face a big smile. The guilt hit him hard. This was going to be tougher than he had anticipated. “You look much better today!” His lack of proper sleep the day before had probably shown on his face, because other than the night’s sleep he’d had he didn’t feel any better today. 

He swallowed and realised how dry his throat had become. He was about to ask Erica for some water, but he realised it was just procrastination. He had to get this over with right now. 

“Guess who are staying at Nan’s place so they could come see you!” Erica announced before he could say anything and stepped aside to reveal a short plump curly-haired woman and a tall man with grey hair. 

“Emerson! My dearest son!” the woman, Kent’s mother, called out as she rushed past her daughter to embrace her son. The tight feeling in his chest became worse. Of course everyone was going to find out if he confessed to his sister, but it felt increasingly hard admitting to what he’d done with his entire family there. “Are you okay?”

“Hi mum,” Kent said quietly.

“Of course he’s not,” Kent’s father said with a stern face. “He’s just been attacked again, he must be feeling terrible. I don’t think he needs you smothering him, Barbara.” 

“I don’t mind it,” Kent said looking up at his mother who ran her hand through his hair. His decision to admit to what he’d done was slowly crumbling. Maybe no one needed to know. He and Mark could leave London and make sure they wouldn’t be followed by the people who had hurt him. They could start a new life, and even though he would be sad to leave his workmates behind, it wouldn’t be as life changing for him as admitting to what he had done. 

“Don’t you think that job of yours has become a bit too dangerous lately, son?” his father asked still wearing a stern expression. Kent had always had a suspicion that his dad didn’t think he was cut out for the job and even though the question was probably also born out of concern, he would normally have objected, also mentioning that this incident didn’t even happen while he was at his job, but this time he agreed.

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about resigning this past day.” There he’d said it, this was one of two choices that he’d now chosen, it wasn’t too late to back out, but he really couldn’t decide which the wisest choice was. This option spared his family and that had to be the most important thing. 

“What?” Erica seemed genuinely shocked. “But you love…” she was just about to stumble over her words, he could tell, but Erica was the only one in his family to know. “that job! You never clock out in your mind, I’ve seen it!” Kent could see his mum nodding out of the corner of his eyes. 

“Honey, I know how scared this must’ve made you, but you’ve worked so hard for this job. You’re practically a real life hero!” His mum said her hand finding his. He knew that she must feel concern about his job as well, but she had heard him talk proudly of his job too many times to believe that this change of mind had come about for good reasons. She would be right about that, but it didn’t change his mind. 

“No, mum, I mean it. I don’t feel like I belong in this job anymore,” Kent said, adding: “I think I need to find something that really fits me.” His mum would appreciate it more if he did it for reasons that would make him happy. 

“Oh well, if you really feel like it’s the best choice for you. You know we love you no matter what!” Kent almost winced at the words and every fibre of his being told him he’d made the right decision at this very moment. He wondered how quickly that would change for the opposite when he had to tell Chandler and the rest of his team that he was going to quit his job. But as far as he could reason, nobody would be hurt badly if he carried out his current plans, except for his own conscience. 

“I do,” Kent said smiling, and even though he could still see the doubt in his mother’s and sister’s eyes, none of them said anything to try and change his mind further. They changed subject to more pleasant things and it left Kent in a strangely optimistic mood when they eventually left. He didn’t want to waste time and called Mark straightaway to tell him of his plans. Mark seemed happy with the idea, so that was the first part of the plan out of the way. It did feel strange to talk happily with his friend again considering how broken their friendship had become. Kent could never really call him his friend again even if what he did was out of desperation, but if they had to leave London together he had to act like their friendship was intact. 

The next couple of days he was visited by Chandler and Miles who were both trying to get him to reveal who had hurt him and he gave some vague explanations that could fit anyone but given that he still didn’t want to press charges there was nothing they could do. He didn’t mention the job at all as he wanted to go to work one last time so he could say a proper goodbye to everyone. Erica visited him daily despite being very busy with her job. She had obviously taken his pleas on her first visit seriously and it made his brotherly love for her even stronger. 

When he came out of the hospital, Mark had made up an extra bed in the apartment of a mutual friend of theirs, having decided that their own apartment wasn’t safe anymore. Lying in bed that evening Kent tried to prepare himself mentally for the day he knew had to come eventually. He had troubles falling asleep as he tried to figure out how he could have let his otherwise almost perfect life slip through his fingers. At first he felt anger at himself, at how he didn’t just do the right thing straight away, but then he realised that he should be directing his anger at Mark for putting him in that position in the first place. He then thought to himself that he couldn’t blame Mark for how he had reacted to the situation himself so he ended with a mixed external/internal rage and ended up getting only a few hours of sleep. 

It was not the best kind of preparation for a day he knew would be emotionally challenging, but he was determined to get it over with. Going to work, he couldn’t help but smile at the fact that he was on his way to see the team again. He had to remind himself of the reason he was there, but it was like he hadn’t truly realised it yet. 

Riley looked up and gave him a heartwarming smile when he entered the incident room. She had obviously forgiven him for his words the other day. Kent figured it might have something to do with how fragile he looked walking around with crutches. It was even worse this time than it had been the last time as the wounds on his chest hurt when he used his chest muscles too much, which unfortunately he did when he had to walk with the crutches.

“Welcome back, Kent!” she said giving him a hug with one arm over the shoulder. Kent shortly wondered if he should tell her right away, but opted for a simple thank you instead.

He’d arrived late for work, cause all of the others, with the exception of Mansell were already there. Buchan gave him a cheery greeting as he passed on his way down to the archives, and Miles welcomed him back with a slight hesitation. Kent knew that it bothered him that he hadn’t pressed charges. The crutches were physical evidence that somebody was roaming out there who could do people harm, and Kent was in the way of getting to them, but that was not his concern, and especially not in this moment where he was gathering his strength to do what he must do. 

He was not sure if he should tell people before Mansell got in, but if he didn’t he would definitely have to meet Chandler face to face beforehand.

He sat down at his desk wondering what to do. It would almost be stupid starting any work as he wouldn’t be able to finish it that day anyway. Chandler walked out of his office and over to Riley to tell her something and when he turned around he lit up in a smile. 

“Oh Kent! I didn’t know you would be in so soon. It’s good to have you back!” 

“Thanks sir!” Kent said. He couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his body at the words. 

Chandler walked over to his desk, obviously looking at the crutches beside Kent. “Listen, we have a new case on our hands, and it will probably take a lot of field work, but if that’s inconvenient for you, you can stay at the station and interview people.” Kent saw Mansell arrive at work and decided that it was better to get this over with sooner than later.

“Um… Sir?” He said hesitantly, his heart was beating faster in his chest, and he had to swallow twice before he could say anymore, all the while Chandler was looking inquisitively at him. Why did he have to do this? “I… You won’t have to find me…” Kent was speaking so low that Mansell didn’t realise there was anyone talking. He went straight up to Chandler.

“I just had a talk with the search team. Other than the foot it seems like a professional has been at work here. There were no traces to be found of anything.” Kent had stopped talking so Chandler focused his attention on Mansell. 

“Don’t give up yet, if we’ve found a foot their work can’t be that thorough. It’s just a matter of time before more must show up. And since we’ve roughly estimated the date of death, we’re going to run through the missing person register to see if there’s anything that fits with the date, the place and possibly the shoe size to see if we can give a name to our John Doe. Actually isn’t that something you could do, Kent?” 

Kent was only vaguely interested in the case as he couldn’t let himself be invested in this. He would have to tell them now or he may never get the courage to do so. 

“I said it yesterday, and I’ll say it again today. It’s the place for low-life drug dealers and their customers to meet and I would bet half of my pay check that it’s either a buyer or a seller we’re dealing with here. A transaction gone wrong,” Miles barked. Kent’s heart sank. It couldn’t be.

Mansell turned to Kent who looked baffled to explain. “It’s a murder, or so we believe as we’ve found a foot. It happened someday last week. The foot was found behind a shed by the Thames, and we believe that the rest of the body parts have been thrown in the water. By the way, it’s nice to see you back!” Kent nodded quickly, but he was screaming internally. Their new case was the case of the man Mark had killed. If he didn’t intervene with the investigation, it would lead to them. He could not let this happen. He could not quit his job.

This meant that he was now investigating his own crime, and the realisation of that took its toll on him. Granted, he was not the one who had committed the actual murder, but he felt equally guilty. How had it come to this? He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. He could feel his own sanity starting to crack – just like it had done months ago. This time it was stronger though.

Last time it had manifested itself in the smallest of things; reflections, angry outbursts or actions. He’d thought everything had gone back to normal after the positive comment his invitation had received from Chandler. The appointment to go out for drinks had never happened, and the team had been down for a while until they’d picked up a new case and thrown themselves even more into their work to prove themselves. It had worked. The team had successfully brought in the killer of several victims who had been asleep at the time of killing so the struggle was minimal. One victim had heard him enter the house and escaped and she was the last crucial piece to finding the killer and having him arrested. After that, Chandler had finally started to believe in himself again which increased Kent’s own mood a lot. As he was the superstitious type, he had not wanted to jinx the post-case celebrations by daring to ask his boss out again. With all of this having happened since the last time he’d had troubles, Kent hadn’t given them a thought since. 

Now as he was sitting on the edge of his seat staring at the report he’d gotten from the morgue to keep himself up to date with what his colleagues knew already, he almost felt as though he could hear his own mind crumbling audibly. 

He hurt from having sat down for too long and even though he had now moved to a position so he was perched on the chair in a way where his wounds weren’t touching it, he could feel them stinging, and the anger he had felt before flared up in him again. 

He’d felt it first at the injustice surrounding him when he had first been attacked, but the satisfaction of having caught the people who had hurt him and having dismantled their empire of crime, had been enough for the anger to settle for a long time, even though they themselves had never been brought courtly justice it. Kent he had never before realised that that was what had given him even more satisfaction as they could now never return in any way.  
He’d felt the anger again a couple of months ago and wondered if it was because something was wrong with him. Now he was sure that was the case as he was staring down at the descriptions of how the body must have had been disposed and at the same time vividly remembering the action itself. 

He realised there was no going back to the right side of the law, and since that was the case, why shouldn’t he allow himself to feel some of that satisfaction again? His fears for his sister’s life and the dilemma he had found himself in about whether or not to confess had been just enough distraction for him to have not really considered the severity of his latest attack, and he hadn’t really worked through it. Of course he had thought about it. He’d had nightmares and fears, but then his mind had turned back to the dilemma. As his mind conjured up a plan his anger turned to fear as he realised what he’d been thinking of. He could never turn back to being the innocent young Kent everybody knew, but his thirst for justice – or was it vengeance? - was so strong that he had planned on killing his attackers. He didn’t know whether most of the fear that had hit him afterwards had come from the fact that he had earnestly planned to kill someone or from the deep-rooted fear of his attackers that dwelled inside him, but what he did know was that Mansell had spotted the expression of fear that had obviously been evident on his face and was now headed over towards him…


	6. Chapter 6

“Hey man, are you alright?” Mansell wore a concerned expression, and they both looked at each other for a while.

“Yeah, sure, I’m fine,” Kent said, both of them knowing this was a blatant lie. “Did you want anything? Cause I’m busy!” 

“Yeah mate I know but, don’t overwork yourself alright? You’ve just come back and it’s not exactly a pleasant case you’ve been thrown into the middle of.”

“Ha!” Kent couldn’t help but exclaim at Mansell’s words. “No, you’re right about that.”

“So you’re sure, you’re okay?” 

Kent could not get used to the fact that Mansell cared about him to this extent, but he also couldn’t care enough about it to thank him for his concerns.

“I’m fine. Was there anything you wanted?” he said through gritted teeth, as he once again had to alleviate some of the pain in his buttocks. 

“Yeah right, you find anything yet?” 

“No nothing,” Kent answered and he wasn’t exactly lying. Nobody had reported the man in question missing. Probably because his gang wanted to take matters into their own hands and didn’t want the police to become involved.

“Alright just checking. Keep up the work,” Mansell said as he left Kent’s desk.

No one gave him any other tasks throughout the rest of the day. Kent knew it was to make his job easier, and on one hand he appreciated it, cause it meant that he didn’t have to lie about his results, but on the other hand he had to keep himself updated about the process of the investigation throughout the day. 

He blanked out on the files in front of him, as he eavesdropped on the discussions of the case, and to his joy it didn’t seem as if they were making any leeway in the case. That was, until Miles stood up from his chair and walked determinedly to Chandler’s office. He closed the door behind him, but Kent kept a sharp eye on the room. The conversation didn’t last long, and Chandler was quickly on his feet, grabbing his jacket. 

“Miles got a lead on someone who might be involved with the gang. He goes by the nickname Skunk, and he might be able to give us some information,” Chandler announced, as the two of them left the incident room.

Kent stared at them as they left. If this man were really part of their gang, he would be able to give them Mark’s name and perhaps even his own. He had a plan even if it was far fetched, but he had to do something to stop them from advancing in this case.  
He smiled at Riley and mumbled something about getting some fresh air as he picked up his crutches. She offered her assistance as he stood unsteadily, but he declined.

Outside the station, he took out his phone to call Mark once he was sure he was alone. 

“Hello Kent. Anything wrong?” Mark answered his phone. He assumed the worst and he was right to. The plan had been that Kent would quit his job, but he still didn’t know what turn this day had taken.

“Mark. I’m going to make this short, cause this is urgent, but our case landed on my desk today, so I’m staying to make sure nothing goes wrong. For us, I mean,” Kent explained quickly. It was silent on the other end. “They just found a name: Skunk. Is that anyone you know?” 

“He is one of the men who was at our flat. I’m sure,” Mark said after a short pause. 

“Is he the one who called you from his own phone? Do you know?”

A longer pause.

“I don’t. I don’t have their numbers on speed dial, mate. I only knew… you know… personally.” 

“Well, can you give the number to me anyway? I need a way of contacting them.”

“Contact them? Are you sick?” Mark exclaimed.

“If I don’t get to them, before my team mates do, I’m sure your name will be the next lead they’ll follow,” Kent hissed into the phone, which made Mark give him the number straightaway. 

Kent hung up the phone and called the newly gotten number. He kept a watchful eye out for anyone who could see or hear anything, but there was no one. 

Nobody answered the phone, and it went straight to voicemail. Kent hung up and tried again. No answer. He took a breath before speaking in a deeper voice than he usually did.

“I heard from an inside source that the police are coming for Skunk as I speak. Get out of there.” 

It was a long shot that that message would bring any results, but Kent didn’t know what else to do. He went back to the incident room, as he didn’t want to seem too suspicious.

Once back at his desk his thoughts started running amok. What would he do if they found out? He’d already played with the thought of turning himself in over and over, but the thought of Chandler and Miles returning with Mark’s name on their lips made his heart sink. He took a deep breath. His sister. She was first priority always. If that was what was going to happen, he would tell them all how important it was to get to her, before making any move on Mark. At least that was a course of action. Nothing was secure in Kent’s life at the moment, but as long as his sister was safe, he would at least have achieved something.

The hours went by and Kent was so anxious for the return of Chandler and Miles that he couldn’t sit still. He got up to take a glass of water, but just as he’d begun filling his cup, they both entered the room. Kent almost jumped in the air out of nervousness, and the plastic cup fell to the floor. 

“It was a dead end. He wasn’t anywhere to be found,” Miles said sounding exhausted.

Kent stood frozen by the water cooler and looked at him in awe. He didn’t dare believe that it was his call that had made this happen, but no matter what, he’d just been given extra time to figure out what to do next. The workday was almost over, so there was no way any breakthroughs would happen before people returned home.

Miles looked up at him, then down at the floor. “Oi Kent, no need to worry about that,” he said smiling at him. Kent sent him a quick smile, filled a new cup with water and returned to his desk.

To Kent’s relief, he was correct. No one discovered anything new to move the case forward, and so everyone went home. He knew they’d try to find Skunk again, as he was their biggest lead, but Kent had an entire night to figure out what his next course of action would be, so he was relieved for the time being. 

He left the station, and as he walked home, he was happy that the place he was currently staying was closer to the station than his own apartment. 

It was dark and cold out, but Kent was enjoying the walk. That was, until he heard footsteps behind him. Even though he felt foolish when his first thoughts were paranoid, he still tried to get a glance of who it was. But before he even had the chance to turn his head, one of his crutches was kicked out from underneath him and he fell to the ground. He turned around and stared up at one of the men who had hurt him. He hadn’t been wrong in being paranoid. 

“Hi pup,” the man said staring down at him, and Kent felt a surge of fear. “Yeah, I know you were the one who called me earlier. You trying to save your friend from the coppers, huh? Well you don’t need to worry. We want to be the ones who do the honours,” he smiled as he drew a knife that glinted in the streetlight. Kent instantly shut his eyes in fear. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. He couldn’t take it anymore. He felt the knife press against his throat. 

“We still haven’t found your friend, cop, but I tell you this. Even though he obviously doesn’t value your life, I’m sure you value it yourself. If you don’t get your friend to us, you will just have to do, but we are kind people. We give you yet another chance,” he laughed as he let the knife linger right above Kent’s Adams apple. He stood up above Kent, whose eyes were already red and puffy with tears, as he lay there on the pavement. His body was hurting but not as much as his mind. He felt so weak, as he saw the man walking away, kicking one of his crutches out of his reach, and then he didn’t. 

Something in his mind clicked. This was it. He remembered the Krays dead on the ground. That was what true justice felt like. With a swift swing he used his crutch to knock the man over, and ignoring the pain in his body, he crawled towards him. The knife was his target and luckily for Kent the fall had caught the man so off guard that he’d dropped it. Kent grabbed it, and lying on the ground beside the other man he stabbed him, first in the stomach, and as he curled up in pain, screaming out, Kent went for the kill. With all the strength he could muster, he stabbed the knife deep into his neck, turning the scream into a horrifying gurgle. Kent scrambled to get up, but didn’t let go of the knife. 

The adrenaline pumped inside him as he looked around. People might come running any moment. Kent tucked the knife up his sleeve. It wasn't the safest place, but he had to keep it out of sight. He walked as fast as he could away from the scene. There was no disposing of this body, he just had to get away. 

He was quickly aware that the blood that had run out on the pavement had reached his clothes, so he kept to the shadows, and as he entered their friend’s apartment, he quickly locked himself in the bathroom. 

He stopped for a moment to just look at himself in the mirror. His suit was dark so the blood wasn’t as obvious as he’d feared. Still, it was there, and it was very very real. He looked up until his eyes found their reflection in the mirror. Were they changed?

Maybe not, but he was. For once his mind wasn’t filled with the thoughts of consequences and pain. He would almost describe the feeling as joy. Joy over the fact that he had fought back. That some justice had been dealt to one of the people who had caused him so much torment in these past couple of days. 

He placed the knife in the sink in front of him, and turned on the faucet. The knife that, seconds before he had gained controlled of it, had brought him back to the worst moments of his life. He stared at the red whirlpool forming in the sink. A smile crept up on his face, as slowly a plan was forming in his mind.


	7. Chapter 7

Despite the malevolent intentions Kent had, and the rush of adrenaline that had felt so good as he entered the apartment, fear crept up on him as soon as he’d cleaned up and entered the guest room that he’d called his own for the week he’d been staying there. It wasn’t the usual fears that seemed so ever present now with several attacks in his past. He knew there would be no running from what he’d just done. He wasn’t on call this week, but he suspected that someone would be at the crime scene at this very moment, and it wouldn’t take them long to find the phone that still had the recording he’d left earlier that day, and they would go after him, but he couldn’t let them get to him.

It surprised him that the thing that bothered him was the prospect of getting caught more than it was being found out or even the fact that he had just killed a man, but in the back of his mind, he knew it had something to do with the plan he’d just made. It was a goal and he had to fulfil it, and getting caught would very much put a wrench in his plans.

He found comfort in the fact that the only people who knew where he was staying at this moment were the people living there at the moment and his sister. If they really did find the phone and make the connection between his altered voice in the message and him, it wouldn’t be for a little while and from there they would have to contact Erica, so it gave him enough time to fulfil his plans. Hopefully.

Once he’d hidden the knife in the bottom of a bag, he tried to get some sleep. He’d been a heavy sleeper once, and one of those sleepers that other people usually got envious of, as he could fall asleep anywhere in a matter of seconds. He’d often tried to keep Mark company through his creative nocturnal projects in their school days, but had awoken to his friend sleep deprived but much further in his project with a happy grin on his face, usually a pot of coffee at the ready for Kent to enjoy along with him. After his attack he’d taken measures to feel safe before sleeping, and couldn’t just sleep anywhere, but lately sleeping had become a task. By now he was actually surprised if he got a proper night’s sleep, which is why he was so startled when Mark called through the door.

“Hey Em! I don’t know if you’re awake yet, or when you have to go to work, but I thought maybe we could eat breakfast together today.”

Kent looked up at the window. He couldn’t determine what time it was, only that the sun was starting to come up.

He didn’t answer straight away, but got up to get dressed. He had a feeling that Mark was still standing on the other side, and his feelings were confirmed when he spoke again.

“I made you a café latte instead of a normal pot of coffee. Granted I know you like cappuccino more, but I don’t know how to make anything that fancy.”

Kent got a bit suspicious at the effort Mark was putting into this morning talk, but he called out to him that he would be there in a minute. He heard footsteps as Mark left the door, grabbed his crutches and made his way to the kitchen where his friend had set up a humble breakfast.

“What about Jodie?” Kent inquired as he saw the table was only set for two.

“She’s sleeping in today. Late shift,” Mark explained as he sat down at the table.

Kent joined him without another word, and Mark happily gestured to the café latte in front of him. It all felt a bit surreal given the recent past and Kent was still waiting for an explanation. He didn’t have to wait long.

“Alright, mate. I know an apology is going to amount to nothing at this point, but we’ve come this far, and I know that’s also just due to me being a shitty friend, but I feel like we could somehow start all over when this is done, you know?”

Instead of answering, Kent took a sip of the café latte. Mark quickly spoke again.

“Cause they might be investigating now, but, and this is not to take a shit on the skills of your colleagues, but I trust you mate. You’re cleverer than that whole lot!”

Kent had to bite his tongue at the “I trust you” as the evidence clearly showed the opposite.

“The good thing about you staying at the station as well is that you’ll still be around that handsome blond fella. Heck, that could be a way for me to repay you, couldn’t it? Just let me do my work and he’d be the one giving you the heart eyes in no time!”

“Heh, I’m not letting you anywhere near him!” Kent said returning the smile.

Despite the reminiscence of their past, Kent only saw this as a means to an end. Part of his plan involved Mark, and the fact that they were now “mending their bond” over breakfast tied in nicely with his plans, so he played the part and smiled, and let Mark do most of the talking.

“Actually,” Kent said after another mention of his work. “I was thinking. Something that actually might be worth showing up late for work today would be some paperwork I have at home.”

“Paperwork?” Mark raised an eyebrow.

“Well yeah,” Kent said trying to sound as if it was obvious where he was going with this. “There’s something in there that might be a red herring for them all. I don’t even have to suggest it myself. Just the fact that I’m returning the paperwork will surely make someone look through it, and when they do they won’t be able to ignore the resemblance to one of our cold cases. It’ll send them straight off the trail.”

“Alright,” Mark said. He didn’t seem entirely convinced, but the fact that he wasn’t arguing any further was as good as.

“But I could use a ride to our flat.”

Mark’s eyes widened at the implication.

“I dunno mate.”

“Really? You won’t even do that? Great way for us to start over our friendship,” Kent tried his best to look hurt.

Mark looked conflicted.

“But they might be there!”

“Well my team is hot on our tails and we need to throw them off, and this is the least inconspicuous way of doing it that I can think of.”

There was a long pause. Kent was comfortable not saying anything, whereas Mark was usually one to fill the silence, so he waited for him to make the next move.

Mark stared intensely at the cup Kent was drinking from casually. He looked afraid, and Kent had to hid a smile as he took another sip from the cup. Schadenfreude was not a feeling that was unfamiliar to him. Of course he only felt that way when he felt like the people who got hurt deserved it, but he’d never been proud of the feeling still, cause Erica had told him not to.

_His nose was still sore from the punch he’d received square to the face a week earlier. He’d been lucky, that it hadn’t been broken or so he’d been told when his mom took him to the doctor, but he didn’t feel lucky. He felt scared, cause Alex, the kid who’d punched him, was bigger than him, and he didn’t have any guarantee that it wouldn’t happen again, but as he and his sister were hiding behind a bench during a snowball fight, he saw the accident clear as day. Alex ran across the icy ground, snowball in hand, when he slipped and fell. Kent swore he could hear the crack of his arm breaking from where he sat, and despite the shock, he’d laughed. Erica had hit him in the back of the head with a snowball and chastised him for doing so, and he’d immediately felt bad about it, but that didn’t mean that the feeling wasn’t there._

“But, and I’m saying this out of concern for you as well, Em, seeing as you’re the one who has suffered most at their hands, but what are we going to do if they’re there?”

“I understand why you’d ask that question but it’s simple. Let’s expect them to be there and be prepared to fight back,” Kent said motioning with his cup so some of the coffee spilled out.

Mark stared at him. “Are you serious, mate? You don’t seem as shaken by this event as you did the last time, umm, the same thing happened to you.”

“Of course I’m scared, and I understand why you’re scared as well, but I’m a detective constable, and if you remember, last time I also wanted to get back as fast as possible, just like I am already back at my job. It also has to do with the matter of urgency. It’s really important that I get that paperwork. If it wasn’t I wouldn’t even be thinking of suggesting this, believe me!”

Mark got up from the table without any real purpose other than moving from the stationary spot.

“But they’ve got a gun!”

Kent had thought about this too, and figured it was a chance he had to take, but he didn’t feel like it was too big of a risk, cause he doubted they’d be at the apartment, given that it had been empty and locked for a while now.

“I don’t care. It’s either that or imprisonment. At least a shot to the head is over quickly,” Kent said.

“Ow mate, it hurts to hear you say that. I know I’ve always been the more light-hearted out of the two of us, but that sounds too gloomy, even for you.”

“I know the stakes. I’ll go up there first and signal you to come up, if that makes you feel better.” Mark hesitated for a moment, but Kent knew that the way he’d set this up as an option between going to the apartment and getting caught paired with the fact that this was low risk for Mark would make him cave.

This was a line of thought Kent would never have had a little while ago. When Mark had offered to stay up and guard him all night after what happened with the Kray’s, Kent knew him to be a true and fierce friend. Now he knew that was a lie, but then again - and he knew this first hand - people change.

“Alright. But please be careful, Em,” Mark said finally.

Kent only nodded as an answer.

They finished eating, and were on their way as quickly as possible. Kent kept up the pretend that he was on a schedule seeing as he was on his way to work, when in reality work was one of the last places for him to be.

Mark continued his bonding time in the car. He talked even more than he had at breakfast, but Kent put that down to nerves.

They arrived at their old flat, and a glance up at the windows definitely gave the impression that no one were there, but they couldn’t be sure.

Mark put a hand on Kent’s shoulder as he exited the car. He didn’t say anything and neither did Kent. He sent him a reassuring smile and Mark repaid it. As soon as he had his back turned, his smile faded and he made his way up to the flat.

He would be lying if he said his heart didn’t race, as he inspected every corner of the flat, but to his relief there were really no one there, and he gave Mark a thumbs up from the window in his own room.

He stopped in the doorway and looked into the living room. The blood was gone, but otherwise everything looked the way it had done when he’d been attacked. The room was still set up to take photographs. It was almost like the day before it all had happened, minus a cat and some takeaway food.

“Em?” a cautious call was heard.

“I’m in here. Everything is fine!” Kent called back.

He went to the desk where he usually worked from home, looking at the papers. Some were lying in a mess across the desk, the name DC Emerson Kent clearly visible on one of them, and the rest were stacked neatly underneath a big glass paperweight.

“Have you found it?” Mark said as he looked over Kent’s shoulder.

Kent stepped to the side.

“Not yet, I’m just looking at the dates, trying to find one from 2012. Can you look at those? Then I’ll look here,” Kent said indicating that he’d look at the neatly stacked papers.

Mark shrugged and started looking through the papers as Kent, leaning on one of the crutches, removed the paperweight. He weighed it in his hand for a moment, glanced at Mark, and with a swift motion sent it flying into the side of Mark’s face.

His body collapsed on the top of the desk, and Kent calmly put the paperweight down.

Step one was complete.


	8. Chapter 8

It was hard moving Mark’s body, while at the same time holding himself upright with the crutches, but after some toil, Kent had him propped up against the sofa. He knelt beside him and used duct tape to tie his hands together behind his back.

 

_“Mark! Get your butt out here and help me with the groceries!” Kent called out as he opened the apartment door with his elbow, several plastic bags in his hands._

_“Welcome home. Anything exciting happening at work today?” Mark asked happily as he sauntered into the hallway to get the bags._

_“You ask this every day, despite knowing very well that I can’t tell you about 90 percent of my job,” Kent sighed as he hung up his jacket._

_“It’s good to keep the traditions alive,” Mark grinned. He carried the bags into the kitchen and Kent followed him into the living room, where he plopped down on the sofa._

_“Well, something did happen today. Something I can tell you about.”_

_“What really? I knew something would come of that question eventually,” Mark’s voice rang out from the kitchen._

_“Don’t get your hopes up. It’s not that exciting. The commander sent us a new DI today.”_

_“Ohh, a new boss? What are they like?”_

_“I don’t really know. The lads are already calling him a paper policeman. It didn’t take long before they started a bet of how quickly he’d be out of there.”_

_“So he isn’t that good?”_

_“They surely don’t seem to think so. He did seem quite uptight compared to - well you know how the team is,”_

_“Ha, I’d almost seem uptight compared to your colleagues,” Mark said as he popped his head into the living room. “Though I do get the picture of why he wasn’t so welcome then. Want a cuppa?”_

_“Thanks. Well I just want to give him a chance, you know? And not be so quick to judge.”_

_“Of course you do. You’re Emerson Kent, the sweetest kid in the police force.” Despite him being in the kitchen, Kent could imagine the sly grin crawling across his face._

_“Piss off!”_

Kent had found Mark’s phone. He’d insisted that he didn’t have any of the gang’s phone numbers on him, and that would fit with the fact that they hadn’t known his when they tried to contact him, but Kent was still curious if there was something on there that could lead him to them.

Kent had known Mark’s password for a long time. It was sometimes hard to turn off the observant eye of a detective, and he’d noticed Mark typing it in one too many times to forget it. He had been wondering whether or not Mark had changed it, given his recent suspicious nature, but he’d apparently been clueless to Kent’s knowledge, and the phone unlocked straight away.

 

_“What on earth is up with that tie? Aren’t you going to work?” A groggy Mark exclaimed. He’d been up all night, and Kent was just headed out the door._

_Kent laughed a little. “Yeah, it’s a thing we’re doing. The new boss told us all to get organised and wear ties, so that’s what we’re doing.”_

_“But there’re pins on that tie. That’s not very police-y.” Mark hung over the sofa’s back, pointing at the tie._

_“We’re not taking it seriously. Everyone is gonna show up with ridiculous ties.”_

_“You must have formed an opinion on the guy then, if you’re in on the prank.” A thud was heard as Mark fell back down on the sofa._

_“Well, it’s a harmless joke really. You know I’d stick out like a sore thumb if I didn’t do it,”_

_“Heh of course, you’ve never been a prankster, but then I don’t understand why you’re doing it,” Mark peeked over the sofa’s back again._

_“You know they’re still picking on me for being the youngest. No reason to give them more reasons. Besides, like I said, it’s just for fun.”_

_“You know what? Your colleagues sound worse than school kids sometimes.”_

_Kent grabbed his jacket. “Heh, and that would make our DI the substitute teacher.”_

As he scrolled through Mark’s messages, he could feel his own phone vibrating. It continued for a while, and at last he couldn’t ignore it anymore. He’d had several calls from the station. Whether they called him cause he was late and hadn’t given them a message saying why or because they were actually on his tail weren’t evident from his calls, but a private message from Mansell, playing the caring brother-in-law again told him, that he had more time to run on.

“Are you alright mate? If it’s another “sick” day, just tell me and I’ll cover for you.”

He put the phone back. He had no desire to make any kind of contact even if being ill was a good cover.

 

_“Now alright, mate. What is up with those fancy suits? I mean I’ve noticed them getting nicer and nicer over these last couple of days, but now it’s just over the top.” Mark exclaimed while swinging wildly with a paint brush._

_“It’s for the boss,” Kent said distractedly as he was looking for the keys to his bike on the desk. He realised what he’d said and didn’t turn around to meet Mark’s face that surely had an expression on it he did not want to see. “We’re all just trying to show a bit of support since this new case has turned out grimmer than we expected it to. It’s his first case, you know.”_

_“Are the others going through as much trouble as buying several new suits as well? Just to be supportive of the new DI that they still don’t really like?” The smile on Mark’s face was evident in his voice._

_Kent found the keys, but he still didn’t turn around, half wanting to just turn towards the door and leave. “Everyone is dressing nicely. Suits, ties and everything.”_

_Suddenly Mark appeared to the right of him. Kent almost jumped in the air._

_“What are you-?”_

_“And has everyone got minty fresh breath?” He stuck his nose close to Kent’s mouth. Kent quickly backed away._

_“It’s just…”_

_“Don’t try to come up with any excuses. You love coffee! Your breath usually stinks, cause you leave the house after consuming a giant latte. So don’t try to convince me that this is unrelated to the whole suit shebang,”_

_“I’m just trying to be professional here,” Kent said._

_“Suuuure you are!”_

_“You know I don’t have to listen to you right?” Kent said trying to hide a smile as he turned around and headed for the door._

_“Say hi to your DI for me!” Mark called after him._

 

Kent smirked. It seemed that luck was on his side for once. The gang had continued to leave threatening messages on his phone. Mostly from the number that Kent had called the day before, but there were others among them.

Kent figured that on one side, the gang didn’t fear that Mark would go to the police, so they didn’t mind leaving the messages, and on the other hand, Mark kept the messages as a last defence should he decide to go to the police after all.

Kent typed in the number on his own phone and held it up to his ear.

 

_“Just say if you need anymore help!” Mark said as he closed the door after Kent who, still a bit unsteady on the crutches, made his way into the living room._

_“Thanks, but I think carrying my bags is enough,” Kent replied as he tried to make himself comfortable on the couch._

_“Alright. Just letting you know,” Mark said as he dumped the bags in Kent’s room. When he came back, Kent was on his phone._

_“… okay. Thanks for keeping me updated,” Kent ended the conversation._

_“Keeping you updated? Are you already thinking about work again?” Mark asked, clearly impressed._

_Kent sent him a smile. “Yeah, I’m counting on going back into work as soon as possible.”_

_“Hey mate, you’re tougher than you look!”_

_“I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or not,” Kent said._

_“Take it as you will. I’m just really impressed by you. You’ve just survived an attack and you just want to jump right back into the fire. That’s bravery mate!”_

_“Thanks,” Kent said quietly._

_Mark could tell he didn’t know what to reply to his sincere comments, so he decided to hyperbolize the point._

_“Villains of Whitechapel beware! I mean you are basically the hero of Whitechapel, oh and the hero of your entire team too, especially your...”_

_“Don’t even start, Mark! Sit your butt down here and let’s just watch a good series or something.”_

_So they did. For the most part, Kent’s injury wasn’t mentioned, and they just had a great banter that really helped to put Kent at ease. That was until night arrived._

_“You look like you’re about to fall asleep any minute,” Mark mentioned, as an episode ended._

_“It’s okay. Let’s just watch one more,” Kent said, immediately yawning afterwards._

_Mark didn’t start the next episode. Instead he just stared at Kent, whose tell-tale face gave everything away as it always did._

_“You okay, Em?”_

_Kent’s immediate response was to look down. He stayed silent and Mark knew that even though he was easy to read, he was a very private person who rarely offered up the information that you already knew just by looking at him. It had been months since he’d gone from casual clothes to suits, and the reason why’d been painfully obvious. Back then, Mark had immediately let him know how easily he read him, but this was different. He respected his friend’s wishes when he kept quiet, and started the next episode, but during the episode, he couldn’t help but notice how Kent seemed to battle himself awake._

_When the episode ended, Kent looked absolutely exhausted. He looked up when he noticed Mark’s gaze upon him, and tears started falling even before he said anything. He immediately hid his face in his sleeves._

_“Mark… I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep. I’m so tired, but… I’m scared,” he admitted._

_“What’s there to be scared of, when you have a watch dog?” Mark said with a grin._

_Kent looked up in confusion. “You bought a dog?” he asked. It would be a ludicrous thing to do, but given their recent feline addition to the household, it did seem like a possibility._

_“No, I mean. I’d stay up. You know I’m up almost all night anyway. I’ll guard the flat. I know that’s not much, but it’s basically the same as the two of us sitting here watching telly, only you’d actually get some much needed sleep.”_

_“You don’t have to,” Kent said not wanting to be a burden, but Mark instantly responded:_

_“Of course I don’t, but I will, cause even a copper needs backup sometimes!”_

Mark groaned as he slowly regained consciousness. Immediately aware of his bonds, he fought to get free, but his head hurt, and he shut his eyes in pain. A while later he opened his eyes again. His sight a little blurry, he stared up at his friend standing above him with a stone-faced expression.

“Em, what’s going on?” he mumbled in confusion.

Kent didn’t move a muscle as a figure appeared from behind him, a knife in his hand.

“How nice it is to finally get a hold of you, Mark,” the leader of the gang said.  


	9. Chapter 9

When Mark started shouting at him, Kent shut it out. His focus was presently on the gun being pointed at him.

It was no surprise to him that they would be suspicious of him turning in his friend, and they had every reason to be. They had aimed the gun at him as soon as they’d arrived, promising him they would do him no harm as long as he didn’t try any “funny business”.

The leader of the gang had since allowed himself to be absorbed in the interaction with the tied-up Mark, but the other two had their eyes trained on Kent who kept still and waited for an opportune moment to pounce.

“Shut up!” the leader yelled as Mark’s pleas for Kent to help him turned into curses towards the others. Kent realised that having the gun pointed at him made it seem like his passiveness wasn’t his own choice. At one and the same time Kent would revel in the shock on Mark’s face when he found out, and feel the guilt of what he intended to do.

But before he could even get that far he would have to deal with the gun. He tried to make it seem like he became focused on Mark when the leader closed in on him with his knife, but out of the corner of his eye he remained vigilant.

Mark screamed when the first cut was made, but Kent noticed that the man holding the gun didn’t flinch in the slightest at the sound though he couldn’t have known it was coming with how intensely he’d been staring at Kent.

The other man’s focus had waned though. He’d stepped towards Mark, hatred showing on his face.

“Scream all you want. We’ll make this as slow and agonising as possible!” He said through gritted teeth.

The leader sent him a stare and he regained his posture, looking back at Kent but stealing glances at Mark, who was biting in his pain.

“The police will come after you, and they will look hard if you kill my friend. He’s a detective constable, did you know that?” Mark said trying to make it sound as if he had the upper hand.

“I guess we’ll just have to keep him alive then,” the leader grinned, which caused the two other men to send each other a knowing stare. It was a brief distraction but too brief for Kent to react, so he bided his time.

This wasn’t what Mark wanted to hear. He turned his attention towards Kent again.

“Em, please say something! Please help me!”

Kent sent him what was supposed to be a sympathetic smile, but it was only a half-hearted effort.

“Looks like you won’t find any help there. My, my, he was so loyal to you the last time. What did you do to piss him off?” The leader asked, cutting Mark a second time not actually looking for an answer.

Kent couldn’t help but let out a puff of air in a sarcastic laugh, cause he _had_ been loyal and their friendship would have remained unbroken if it hadn’t been for Mark’s selfishness and for bringing his sister into it all.

As Kent thought about this, Mark started yelling even more furiously.

“You all hated his guts before he was dead. Is this some kind of screwed up honour system?”

“You don’t know a fucking thing about that. He was my brother! You killed my brother!” the man who wasn’t holding a gun yelled as he stepped closer.

The leader turned towards him again. The words he was about to say were broken when Mark smashed his head into his face.

Kent didn’t even take the time to notice the other man's reaction as he saw the man holding a gun get distracted. He stabbed him quickly in the stomach with one of his crutches causing him to keel over, and then he brought the crutch down hard across his head, knocking him out. The gun fell to the floor, and Kent was about to throw himself down next to it, when the other man charged into him, making him fall the other way.

Kent hissed in pain, but he didn’t let it immobilize him. He couldn’t let the other man get to the gun before him.

Out of his peripheral he saw that the leader currently didn’t pose a threat as Mark had thrown himself on top of him during the commotion.

Kent used the crutch to trip the other man, and crawled towards the gun, his wounds stretched painfully with his movement, but he didn’t care. He knew his plan had succeeded and soon the gun was in his hands.

Kent had never shot a man before, but in that moment it became natural to him as the man he had tripped tried to reach him, to harm him as he had before. The shot rang out, and the body fell with a thump to the floor.

The leader had thrown Mark aside, but had realised the threat that Kent posed and was now headed for Kent, who was still on the ground and an easy target if he missed. Kent had wanted to spit venom at him, to let him know why their deaths would be so joyous to him, but the death itself was more important and two shots was what it took to make him fall to the ground, lifeless.

The adrenaline had Kent grinning even as he painfully got up from the ground.

“Kent. Shit! You killed them!” Mark shouted, a mix of relief and shock in his voice.

Kent ignored him as he retrieved the knife and turned towards the unconscious man.

“Kent, what the fuck are you doing?!” This time there was no relief.

Kent ignored Mark for now, stabbing the man in the stomach and leaving the knife. He had no care for the crime scene he would be leaving. People would want to use it in their pursuit of justice, but they would never feel the kind of justice he was feeling right now.

It surged through him like the bubbles of a champagne bottle and poured out of him as laughter more genuine than any he’d had in a long time.

“Kent?” Mark’s voice was more careful now. Not wanting to miss the moment when he truly realised what was going on, Kent turned around to face his former friend.

Mark was lying on his side after the bout with the leader of the gang. His eyes were wide as he stared into Kent’s eyes. He laughed unsteadily as he battled himself up from the ground.

“Wow buddy. I guess we’ve both done that now. I won’t tell anyone either. Free me from these restraints, will you?” He tried to sound casual, but when Kent didn’t answer him right away, he added a “please” that was far too brittle for his usually so confident self.

Kent smiled at him, enjoying not having to say a thing to make him squirm, but he wanted to let him know. He had wronged him and he was the one who most of all had to know the reason for Kent’s revenge.

“Yeah Mark. That would all have been well and good if we’d been friends, but you threw that out the window, didn’t you?” Kent said, trying to keep his voice light for the time being, but his bitterness was already seeping through.

“Hey Em, please. I thought we were doing okay. I apologised. You accepted. You know, over breakfast? I mean, hey I’ll admit a thousand times over that I was a shitty friend, and that I owe you so much, but things were getting better, yeah? We’re cool. We can still go somewhere. Run away from it all,” Mark ranted and Kent let him. He still had a smile on his face, but this didn’t do anything to comfort Mark, who kept talking.

“I swear, I will be the best of friends from now on. You still care about me, right? You saved me from those guys. That’s gotta mean something… Right?” He didn’t sound secure in the slightest.

“You shouldn’t have threatened Erica,” Kent growled. The smile faded from his face, and he raised the gun towards Mark. He'd anticipated that he'd feel guilty even before Mark had helped him kill the others, but he felt nothing.

Mark instinctually began battling against the restraints, even though he made pained noises from moving about.

“Em, I lied about that. I would never have hurt her. Not really. I was desperate, and yes, I know that’s my selfishness talking again, me thinking of myself, but I love your sister. Hah, sometimes I wondered if it was her who was my best friend and not you, though of course it was you.”

“Shut. Up!” Kent sneered, and Mark actually listened. “You’re a fucking liar. You were going to hurt her. Fuck it that I was literally tortured trying to keep harm from coming your way. That was nothing compared to the hurt of that kind of betrayal, of threatening to hurt what matters to me the most.”

“What about you then? Aren’t you hurting her by doing this?”

Kent huffed in place of a laugh. “Of course I am, and I fucking hate that part of it.”

“Well you can't blame that on me!” Mark regained some of his spirit as he shouted at Kent.

“Goodbye,” Kent said abruptly, and he heard the beginning of a protest before he pulled the trigger. Mark’s body slid back to the ground, the hole of the bullet visible on the back of the couch. Kent had wanted to say more, but Mark had managed to hurt him again by reminding him how it was his choice to hurt his sister, and he had to end it there. He knew this wasn’t the end of it though, of his pain, of having let the people he loved and cared about down, but at least he’d brought about that warm feeling of true justice.

It didn’t give him any extra pleasure to stand amongst the dead bodies, so he threw the gun across the room and headed out the door. He wasn’t fleeing the crime scene. There was nowhere for him to go really, so he just headed down the street, letting his legs carry him wherever they wanted. Awaiting the inevitable.

The good feeling was fading and his mind was centered around one thing. This entire set of events had started off as a choice between friendship and duty, but in the end, he had chosen neither.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this, and a special thanks to the people who have read this while it was being written as, wow, that has been a long time!


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